The Nefarious, Malicious Works of the Alpha Team
by Mach616
Summary: Told from Duggery's(disguised as Zoomer Slick) perspective, this is the story of what really happened the day before the Trans-Country Race...when that secret hotel meeting was called. Enjoy!


_**"The Nefarious, Malicious Works of the Alpha Team"**_

_**A Short Speed Racer Fanfic.**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer. All but one character belongs to Speed Racer Enterprises, Inc. You'll see what I mean in the near future.**

**P.S. Lyrics written here are also not mine. They are a courtesy of Skillet.**

_**"You can't take away my strength**_

_**Fix these broken veins**_

_**There's nothing left to fight**_

_**Live free or let me die**_

_**You can't take away my pride**_

_**I won't be denied**_

_**There's nothing left to fight**_

_**Live free or let me die..."**_

_-__**Skillet, "Live Free or Let Me Die" (2008)**__-_

**Prologue**

The sound of his eerie, sinister voice still rings in the ears of one young racer, who wishes to not obey any command nor do any evil bidding of his. As he tries his very hardest to explain this in every way he could, still, Mr. Wiley would not give in. He was now on the receiving end of his anger, but, however, the older man managed to reign in his temper.

"_Until the day you die, Slick, or unless you want to be out of a job for eternity, you _will _be my puppet, and shall do whatever I tell you," _He said to him in a low, highly angered tone of voice. The boy made a face of pure disgust at his words, _and _at the mere mention of his "not real" name.

"You're _revolting." _His eyes glowed with hatred and hostility, and the cold expression on his face wasn't going to change any time soon. Wiley, of course, took this as a delightful compliment, ignoring the fact that it was completely the opposite. He let out a rather irking chuckle, which only fueled the driver's agitation.

"Why thank you, my boy. I never knew you were _this _perceptive." He grinned smugly at the male of great youth like a malevolent sultan. Duggery could now feel his fists uncontrollably clenching and unclenching, and his temper was about to rear its ugly head in a heap of sheer terror.

_Not that I need to work for you anyway. _He thought irritably. _I already have another job...one that gives much better humane treatments than you do. Maybe not so much in terms of working conditions, but they still treat me better. _Tears began to blur his vision. His boss just rolled his beady brown eyes at this gesture, taking a deep puff on his cigar.

"So naive," Wiley hissed, enjoying the satisfaction of moving his driver to suffering-literally pissing him right off. "Just like that pretty, little girl of yours. I should have expected such ridiculousness from a couple of _teenagers._" The way he emphasized that word set him off like a soaring bottle-rocket. His shoulders shot up to his ears, and his face was turning almost about as red as his uniform.

"Are you talking about Alyssa?" He asks through intensely gritted teeth.

"Of course I am. Who else would I be talking about anyway? Your mother? Your _sister?" _Next to his girlfriend, Maddie was the person who meant most to him, knowing that she went out of her way just to raise him herself at just the age of nine. Duggery took a couple steps forward, leaning in until his face(and nose) was just only a few centimeters away from Wiley's.

"I don't give two shits about my mother. She never loved me. But," He thrusted a finger at him. "Don't you _dare _talk about my sister that way!" The heaves in his chest became heavier and heavier. "And if you even have the gall to touch Alyssa, I'll...I'll..."

"You'd what? Hit me with my stick again?"

"Possibly..." Duggery murmured, his temper silenced annoyingly. Wiley threw his hands up in the air in mocked fear.

"Ooh, I'm so scared. I'm going to be interrogated by a stick from my own driver. _Lead _driver." By now, he was ungodly furious, but still strongly resisted an impulse to quit. What was stopping him from doing so is the fact that this occupation involved one of his many talents...and the only other talent he possessed(besides working at a manufacturing company part-time) is being a musician of great experience. Only at the mere age of eight did he learn how to play the piano, courtesy of his previously-mentioned older sister.

Now, at seventeen, playing the instrument for officially nine years at this time, it seemed as if he had magic fingers. They would glide across those keys with total ease, which in exchange produced such lovely sound. His music had such a power so strong it even affected his mind enough to where he is oblivious to his surroundings...almost like a little utopia he escapes to from his tragic reality. Other than Alyssa, that's the only thing that's keeping him alive as of right now.

There was a long, awkward moment of silence, as Duggery and Wiley competed against each other in a random staring contest. It was so unpredictable of what this pompous windbag was going to do next. Never once in his old life did he ever do anything good for a change. The defeat gradually wore down on the poor boy's shoulders, crushing his will to fight. He had no other option than to give in.

"Fine," He huffed after drawing in a breath slowly. "I'll do whatever I can to beat Speed Racer and the Masked Racer, if that's what you so truly desire." Wiley smiled deviously, rubbing his hands together like some kind of Dr. Evil.

"Excellent. That's my good, little driver." And that had been all that was said at that moment.


End file.
